-baby pout .
- •fed by a sparkling silver spoon ripely red of rust ; deep slumbers of trust thrust me high up upon a sour pedestal- I dig into my deep pockets for remnants of sweets ; the bitter bites I take are only remembrances of how I've never bruised my hands on a hammer, I've never reached for the stars without a booster seat cradling me;
- •Buckled in; Legs Flailing; - Pout Baby Pout while the vagabonds sip the salty tears that shoot down to the cement from the whining infant man. With such mass amounts of undeserved hope I have lost my ability to scratch up the ladder -as I see my peers boots tied, gloves tighter, desperately reaching for soil of a path to travel-
- •- I sit in the muck n the mire sleeplessly tired from these pretend golden shackles pathetically scraping my conscious for ways to convince myself it's not my fault; when it is, it is my fault; when bestowed opportunities that I chew up n spit out I am gnawing upon the feeders hand - pout baby pout.
- •father cracked the hammer to the railroad many of days to give me what he didn't have, acquired knowledge his peers were incapable of fathoming, just so I could become something he never could ... a spoiled rotten brat ... I see how dimly lit the house is behind the tall white picket fence ...
- •no matter how many lightbulbs you shove inside, nothing is illuminated ... no matter how many lightbulbs you smash up and slide in your children's lunch - they will not spew the light ... some things shine , others believe that things shine for them ... *throws bar of soap at mirror* ... AAAAND scene